


Take My Mind Off Being In My Prime

by whintersoldiers



Series: Drake!Verse [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Developing Relationship, Explicit Sex, F/M, Fluff, Pining, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 22:04:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10773375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whintersoldiers/pseuds/whintersoldiers
Summary: Bucky's gone from the moment he sees her.Mo City trip,Mo City trip right now...





	Take My Mind Off Being In My Prime

**Author's Note:**

> I know not everyone likes rap/hip hop, but I’ve loved the vibe of the song since it was released. So, when I got the request, I wrote this— although I did change it’s interpretation just a tiny bit. This style is kind of a different style from how I usually write, so I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Based off of this song: [Company](https://soundcloud.com/tm88-808mafia/drake-ft-travis-scott-company-1) by Drake ft. Travis Scott

She smiles, coquettish and soft with those ridiculous lashes and brilliant eyes, and Bucky’s gone.

Bucky’s gone from the moment he sees her.  

> _I got some shit for you to come and get_
> 
> _I'm at the St. Regis up on Briar Oaks_
> 
> _Hit me when you done your shift_  

“Can I get you boys anything?” She inquires casually, but her voice is confident and her stance matches. With shoulders pushed back and pomegranate lips with a sheen that distracts him enough for Sam to have to knock him on the chest.

“W-What?” Bucky asks, blinking and taking in his surroundings. The woman grins, and Bucky’s back to square one, narrowing his eyes at that diamond-luster he wants to lick off, and _redredredred **red.**_

“How ‘bout I come back when you’ve made up your mind?” She suggests and Bucky nearly screams in horror at the prospect of her leaving, but then Sam’s pulling out the charm and laying it on thick, making her smile before she struts to the other end of the bar. Bucky thumps him back on the chest- partly in revenge- but mostly because Sam knows full well by that Bucky’s heated gaze that he’s practically head over heels. 

> _I see you doin' well, baby_
> 
> _Oh you pullin' shit together, I can tell, baby_
> 
> _Is you single or what?_

She laughs, and Bucky keens.

He’s heard it all from her: the tinkling giggles, the soft huffs, and even the full out guffaws in the span of the three weeks he’s known her. But, he’s never heard this. This... intoxicating, chocolate-rich, bone-reaching-- _genuine_ \-- laughter. It travels in through his ears, and sparks something sharp through his arteries that up until then, he’d figured HYDRA had buried.

He instantly makes it his life's mission to draw it out as much as he can.

“S’that right, sugar?” She challenges, an eyebrow raised skeptically and arms crossed up over her chest. It draws his eyes and she knows. “Why should I say yes? Do tell.”

Bucky has no answer. _Why should she say yes?_ God knows he’s a mess, but he wants a chance. He _needs_ a spot in her sun, if only for a little while. He’s never believed in love at first sight, but then his gaze was drawn to the way she moved; to the way she _breathed._

He splutters something out, although he can’t remember. All he recalls is the way her smile widens and cheeks press against the fullness of her lashes. She shakes her head as if she can’t believe it, tendrils of loose hair flying, impossibly soft as it cuts through the air.

He takes a nervous sip of the drink she had placed in front of him with that same, award-winning smile.

She plucks a pen from the counter behind her, and draws his flesh arm closer. Bucky nearly gasps. It’s been so long since someone touched him so sweet-- warm, silky hands wrapped snug around his wrist. She leans close and Bucky inhales quietly, trying to memorize the scent of her shampoo to memory.

“Don’t keep me waiting, Buchanan.” She winks, and Bucky realizes she’s written a 10-digit number on his arm. Bucky ducks his head and his ego does a victory lap.

“I won’t,” He promises.

(He doesn’t.) 

> _I need a girl from the country,_
> 
> _I need a girl from Kentucky_
> 
> _I need a shawty from Houston_

“I’ve moved around quite a bit,” She elaborates. “Lived on the countryside for a bit… Vegas… and now Atlanta.” She plops a fry into her mouth, shrugging. “Guess I’ve always been consumed by wanderlust.” Bucky’s got his chin propped up on his palm, staring with this dopey, doting look and smiling dumbly.

He holds her hand as she speaks and she has to hide her pleased grin behind the ice-cold lemonade the waitress had left for them to enjoy. His thumbs stroke softly at her knuckles and he gazes at her like he could listen to her recite the Bill of Rights without so much as a yawn.

Everything about her enthralls him, from the way she settles into his soul as if they’ve been friends since they were children, to the way her lipstick stains the rim of her glass cup like liquid satin.

It’s only their first date but Bucky’s halfway in love by the time he walks her home and gathers up the courage to press a kiss onto those distracting lips he’s been itching to taste all night. It’s easy and slow because he doesn’t want to push or scare her off, but then she’s gathering the lapels of his denim jacket into her fists, and making him see not stars, but nebulae behind his irses. He’s drunk by the time he lets her go, fists shoved into his pockets with a rosy hue on his cheeks.

She’s unable to stop herself from planting another quick peck onto his kiss-swollen lips before stepping inside, winking as she closes her door behind her. 

> _I need a girl who gon' love me_
> 
> _I need a girl who gon' trust me_
> 
> _Someone to fuck me_
> 
> _Someone to make me feel lucky_
> 
> _Someone that's proud to be with me_

It can’t be right. It feels too good for her to wrap around him like that.

He buries his face into her neck, and bites desperate little kisses up the column of her throat while her hips undulate against him. He’s trying to distract himself so he won’t flip her over and slam into her until she’s fucking _sobbing._

She fucks onto him with vengeance, giving him front row seats to the best goddamn show of his life. He hisses, each roll of her pelvis winding him up further and releasing the pressure he’s been feeling for the entire night simultaneously. He bites harshly into her décolletage, shuddering at the way her cunt pulses around him in return.

She’s torturing him. Everytime his fingers dig a little further into the swell of her ass or his abdomen contracts in pleasure, she’ll slow down until she’s barely moving at all. She owns him and she knows it. He outright whines, stroking at the bones at the top of her thighs pleadingly. He squeezes his eyes shut and throws his head back against the bedframe in frustration.

“ _Goddamn,_ darlin’,” He rasps out, listening to her giggle sweetly in response. “Please.” She leans forward and captures his lips with hers, making Bucky hum in satisfaction.

He can’t even call it teasing, because it’s _agony._ Saccharine-sweet, honey thick, agony. And he wants more.

Eventually though, he reaches a tipping point.

He snarls suddenly, eyes shooting open and hands sliding roughly up to the dip of her waist and clutching tightly. She stares inquisitively, mouth poised for a question until he draws her body up the length of his cock and rams her back down. She chokes on the question, hands scrabbling for purchase against his chest as she grinds back against him.

It was only a matter of time after all. They hadn’t even gotten her panties off, just shoved it haphazardly to the side before impaling herself on his dick. He uses this to his advantage now, pinching her clit between two fingers over her underwear, rubbing back and forth.

She whimpers, panting into his ear heavily while her nails dig pale-crescents into his shoulders. Bucky grins. She loves this, the friction of lace against her clit. Goes wild for it.

 _That’s what I thought,_ He thinks smugly as he watches her eyes roll back, chest jutting out in offering. He continues his onslaught of unforgiving thrusts, and she throws her hair back and exposes her neck to him, already littered with a few marks. She doesn’t even have to ask; Bucky’s already bringing his face to suckle at the skin there.

She loves wearing his mark. Flaunts it.

“Love you so much, _fuck,_ ” He mutters against the sweat-salted skin of her collarbone. She nods in agreement, whispering out that she loves him more than he knows.

One last mewl, a soft sound of her devotion, pulls him to orgasm. He comes with a gasp, painting her walls as she trembles in his arms. She follows him over the edge, coming with a prayer of his name.

“You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met in my entire life,” He gasps out once he’s caught his breath. “Think my dick ought t’have your name tattooed on it.”

She laughs so hard she falls off the bed. 

> _I know a girl I should’a propose to, but we just on some different shit_
> 
> _She on some up at 9AM already cookin' in the kitchen shit_
> 
> _Yeah, she workin' with the spatula, I know she love flippin' shit all… on me_  

One day he’ll propose. He’ll kiss her knuckles and do his best to come up with a remarkable, valiant speech so she can be his forever. His mind jumps into a rose-colored fantasy of having their own home by the beach, big dogs, and a whole other mess of sticky-sweet things he didn’t know he wanted.

It’s all her fault, swaying around in his shirt, and cooking up breakfast. Some band she loves croons in the background while she flips the food with extra flair.

She’s too busy dancing to notice the eggs burning until the oil starts splattering. She yelps, dashing to the pans and mumbling something about Bucky loving his omelettes a little crispy anyway. This makes Bucky grin and rush to her before gathering her up in his arms and pressing big, obnoxious smooches all over her face. She swats at him in false annoyance.

“My pretty baby,” He murmurs, nosing at the bruises he’d left on her neck.

“I’m not an object!” She’ll screech indignantly, but Bucky knows by the way she’ll wrap her arms around him anyway that she loves it. Loves it when he seizes her hips and growls that she’s all his.

“But, you’re still mine,” He argues. “You are, ain’t you? Tell me, sweetheart.”

“All yours,” She whispers back, like she’s telling him a secret. She smiles and his heart does that little thing again.  

> _I don't deserve it_
> 
> _She's just a little too perfect_
> 
> _She's just a little too worth it_
> 
> _I don't deserve her at all, no not at all_

“Am I not enough for you, is that it?” He cries, throwing his hands up in frustration. She narrows her eyes.

“That’s not it, and you know it,” She warns, voice eerily calm. “Don’t pull that card.”

“It ain’t a card,”

“Yes, it is! What the fuck is the matter with you? You’ve never had a problem with me traveling before!”

“That was when you didn’t travel to run away from me,” He snaps. She falls back a little, words faltering and gaze dropping to the ground. Bucky wants to feel self-satisfied but the fact that it’s true makes an invisible knife twist in his chest.

“That was when you didn’t start shit with me without reason,” She hisses back, shaking her head.

“So, your first thought was to bolt instead of talking to me?” He bites. She sighs sadly.

“Everytime I try to talk to you, it’s like there’s a new problem. Maybe it’s me so I- I figured you could use some space,” She answers honestly. This time, Bucky looks down in guilt. He won’t look at her.

She can’t know that everytime they go out, he has to distract her from noticing the stares. The whispers. Everytime she has an opportunity, she has to worry about him- his past. He holds her back.

“What happened to us, baby?” She draws closer, bringing a hand to his jaw and making him face her. She meets his eyes softly, stroking his stubble. He allows her touch to lull him to comfort him for a second before turning away, causing her hand to fall from his face.

“Go wherever the hell you want.”

(So she does.) 

> _I only text her, man I never call_
> 
> _I'm still a canine at heart, I'm a dog_

“Hey, yo, your girl’s calling,” Sam calls, reaching out a hand with the buzzing phone in it. Bucky eyes the device warily, her name flashing brightly on the screen.

“I’m gonna call her back,” Bucky says. Sam raises an eyebrow but Bucky avoids his questioning glance. He swallows and clutches the stained glass bottle of beer tighter.

“You sure, man? She keep calling,”

"Yeah,” Bucky waves noncommittally. The bottle thaws and the dripping water chills his blood hand. “I’ll call her back.”  

> _I need some company;_
> 
> _I need you to take my mind off being in my prime,_
> 
> _Some company…_

_**I need you** 11:47 PM_

It's been over a month since he's contacted her, and this is the first thing he decides to say. 

 _That’s a first,_ She thinks bitterly in response. She swipes her way to the settings of her phone, clicks on _‘Read Receipts,’_ and shuts the device off. She takes a sip of the tea she’d made to help her fall asleep, hard at work trying not to think about him. It’s been even longer since she’d seen Bucky.

It was easy not to think about him in another country, in another world. By staying busy with the locals and the culture of the city, Bucky wasn’t always the forefront of her mind. But, now that she was back in her apartment, with that ridiculous cinnamon candle he liked to light burning away, he was back.

When she steps into her bedroom and sees a muscled silhouette against her blinds, she has to blink twice. Maybe she was having hallucinations, but then he's calling her name out all raspy and low, and she knows it's not a mirage.

“That’s creepy as a fuck,” She greets monotonously, moving along like it wasn’t strange at all for Bucky to be standing before her bed all broody. In truth, the air has been knocked out from her chest.

“I still have your key,” He explains, holding up the small piece of metal. She snatches it from his fingers with perhaps a bit more force than necessary and crosses her arms.

“Thank you for returning it,” She says sarcastically. “You can go now.”

It was never official, but she thinks they’ve been broken up since she stepped onto that airplane to Thailand.

“I’m… sorry,” He begins, but she’s already scoffing.

“You’re _sorry?_ For what, Soldier?” She demands, and he cringes. She only uses that term when she’s particularly annoyed. “Ignoring my calls? Pushing me away? Barging into my bedroom?”

“I’m sorry,” He repeats firmly, stalking closer. She huffs. “I fucked up and I deserve everything i’ve got coming my way, alright? But, you have to let me explain.”

“I don’t _have_ to do anything.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” He placates. “Look, I- I love you. And that scared the shit out of me because you need everything that I wish I could give you. _Normalcy,_ and a- a fucking night out without the entire world havin’ a say in it. Thought it would be better if we just weren’t…” He stops to sigh. “Thought you’d be better off without me.”

He continues, telling her how the last few months without her cleared everything up. How much he missed her, how much he loves her. He confesses like a sinner in church, and her knees buckle. 

“Well, you didn’t--” She’s crying now. She sniffles. “Didn’t give me a choice, did you?”

“I know I didn’t, sweetheart,” He says. “But, you’re everything to me. M’sorry it took you leaving for me to see it, but I understand now. I’m nothin’ without you.” The tears come faster.

Bucky’s unable to stop himself from charging towards her, scooping her up into his arms, and kissing her breathless. She’s unresponsive for a second, stunned into submission. But, then she’s dragging her nails through his scalp and licking into his mouth and Bucky can taste the salt of her tears but he’s flying anyway.

He presses hot kisses up the side of her face, through the trail of tears. And then, a soft whisper:

“All mine.”  

> _Mo City trip right now,_
> 
> _Mo City trip right now..._

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd. All mistakes are my own. 
> 
> This was originally a request on Tumblr, but Drake lyrics have a lot of substance/writing prompts in them, so... I might do a Drake series. We'll see. :) Let me know if you liked!


End file.
